


Drowned Stars

by Albion19



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 01:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Albion19/pseuds/Albion19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wendy, now widowed and with a daughter come across Peter, who is now older.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt: 
> 
> Peter finding an older Wendy in a new life with her family and in the end, he decides to stay? 
> 
> Includes previous Felix/Wendy.

 

_Wendy was married in white with a pink sash. It is strange to think that Peter did not alight in the church and forbid the[banns](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Banns_of_marriage) – J.M. Barrie_

  
She had married a Lost Boy who had been banished with her. He had become a banker like her father, quickly becoming engrained in the mundane world of stocks and shares as if he wanted to forget about Neverland, pirates and an ancient cruel boy who once gazed on Wendy like she was something he wanted to devour.

That was why she had been so anxious as her wedding approached, constantly staring at the skies for a sign of a shadow or his wicked smile. How could someone who had once tricked her into believing her family had cast her out sit back and do nothing as she married? But soon her fears became something else. An excited, choking hope would often wash over her, a hope that he would appear and take her away. It was not that she didn’t love her fiancé, she did, but her heart would always belong to another and Felix knew that too.  
  
So when Peter did not stop her wedding and a ring was slipped onto her finger Wendy shut a window in her heart, barring it. Soon her hurt and reproach turned into something hazy as she started to doubt that Neverland and Peter Pan had ever really existed. You see if you grow too old Neverland starts to fade away until it was no more substantial than a waking dream.  
  
But Peter _was_ real and he did care, he was just waiting.  


* * *

  
  
Her daughter skipped next to Nana, the large dog keeping a watchful eye on her as Wendy trailed behind. She was in half mourning now and splashes of purple cut through the black that she wore. She could see others like herself in the park, women in varying degrees of darkness, blotting the  summer day with their grief. To think that Felix had spent centuries visiting other worlds and ruled as an immortal only to be shot in a French field as soon as he became settled in her world. They never found his body but Wendy knew that she would never see him again, too much time had passed. Felix had always, always felt guilty for what had happened and she knew that deep down he went to war half hoping that he would not come back. Wendy had not been the only one that hoped Peter would forgive and take them back to Neverland.  
  
Widowed at 21 and a young mother Wendy faced an uncertain future. She had wanted to start a family, to settle down and be happy and as she discovered her pregnancy she had finally grabbed onto that desire with both hands, Peter or no Peter. But Felix was gone, missing presumed dead, and now that future was as dreamlike as the island she now half suspects doesn’t exist. But she has her daughter and nothing else mattered but her.  
  
“Mama! Come see the forest in the pond!” Jane cried out excitedly, waving her over and Wendy smiled and went to her. Jane and Nana were standing by the Round Pond, the dog biting the back of the little girl’s dress. She had been well trained and was as attentive as any true nurse maid.  
  
“A forest you say? How on earth did it get stuck down there?”  
  
“Yes it’s rather silly of it. That’s what the man told me,” she said and turned to smile up at a person that Wendy had not noticed. As he turned to smile at her it was as if all the air had been sucked out of her lungs and her blood poured with ice so she could not move.  
  
“Yes, it’s a drowned forest,” Peter told her daughter theatrically. “And sometimes, if you’re here at night, stars fall in and can’t get out.”  
  
He was dressed in a suit, like some well to do city worker and for one awful second she thought he was wearing Felix’s old clothes. But that was not the most shocking thing about him; not seeing him suddenly being there after years, not him talking to Jane. _He was older_.  
  
“Peter?” she finally managed to breathe and he smiled at her politely, a little confused.  
  
“Do you know me?” he asked sincerely and Wendy gazed at him, face white and mouth set in harsh lines.  
  
“Know you? What – what game are you playing?” she hissed, suddenly shaking with anger. How dare he talk to her daughter, approach her! Whatever game he was playing she would not partake. Wendy lifted her chin, every inch the queen he had wanted and took Jane’s hand and walked away.  
  
“Come along Sweetie. What have I told you about talking to strangers?”  
  
“But he knew my name…” Jane whined and waved at Peter sadly. He lifted a hand, staring at Wendy’s retreating back until she was gone and she could feel his gaze burning into her. Peter had failed to get the heart, there had been nothing to stay for but he still stubbornly refused to leave with her. Maybe he had changed his mind but how convenient that it would be after his once faithful friend went missing.  
  
Once home Wendy locked all the doors, barred all the windows and made sure Nana was at the end of Jane’s bed as Wendy sat in the an armchair by her bed for the night, watchful and alert. She would take no chances.


	2. Chapter 2

She dreamt of flying, of shooting stars and steaming jungles, of crowing boys and grabbing hands, of cages, crowns and kisses. She had dreamt of the Neverland often but that night was the most intense since Felix left for the front line and just as she once struggled to free herself from the island so she fought to wake up.

“Jane!” she gasped, bolting up right in the armchair. Immediately she felt guilty and angry at herself for falling asleep but she could see the bed was occupied. She sat back, flexing her sore neck and shoulders, staring at the bed and then at Nana asleep on the floor. All was peaceful and still but something made Wendy get to her feet, the blanket she had covered herself with falling to her feet. Nana was usually sensitive to any movement but she remained asleep, snoring softly and Wendy smiled.

“We’re not much use as guard dogs are we Nana?” she whispered and then frowned. A open medicine bottle was placed beside the dog’s bowl and Wendy bent down to pick it up. It was to help her sleep and something that should not be anywhere near her daughter’s room, let alone Nana’s bowl.

 _Someone had drugged her dog!_ On full alert Wendy leaned over Jane and saw with horror that it was not her but a doll. Wendy threw the cover to the floor, shaking in terror and saw something resting against the doll’s hand. A note.

Ever since she had given birth to her child Wendy had been quietly consumed with a terrible suspicion that Peter would kidnap her baby, just as he had once threatened to steal one of her brothers. It had been her greatest fear that she would wake one morning to find the cot empty. Felix had always tried to placate her, reminding her that Pan was so disgusted by their betrayal that he did not want anything to do with them, certainly not a baby. He promised that he would be there to protect the both of them, no matter what. But now he was gone and it was all on Wendy.

“Please, please, please,” she muttered as she picked the note up with shaking fingers, folded it open and read:

_Dearest Mama,_

_I hope I will be back before you read this but if not please don’t be angry with me. I am on an adventure, like you and papa once had only better. I wish for us to be happy, to be a family again so I must do this._

_I will bring back a drowned star for you to wish upon._

_Your Jane._

“No!” Wendy gasped and felt herself growing faint. She had thought Peter had taken her, had snatched her out of bed and poisoned Nana but it was not so. Her daughter had done it all and was now on her way to Kensington Gardens to rescue a star from a pond that did not exist.

Wendy ran from the room, the note fluttering to the floor and screamed for her child.

* * *

 

She was quite brilliant really. For one so young she prided herself on her ability to outwit adults, to slip into the shadows and hold her breath until they had left. On the way into the now twilight lit park she was able to fool any that came across her, saying that her Papa was just fetching their run away dog and she was to stay put. Once the skies darkened and a mist rolled in, skirting the trees and hiding the gates, she hid at the bottom of some stairs until she heard the gates being shut. At the sound she was over thrilled at her good luck and prided herself on a job well done.

For someone almost eight she was quite the little genius, as her grand papa often boasted and who was she to argue? However like any questing hero she was not doing this for herself and reminded herself of that fact sombrely. After waiting for some time to make sure she was quite alone Jane stepped out from her hiding place and stared around.

She had never been in a place and have it all to herself before, not even her home because Nana or granny was always there. It should have frightened her, to be alone in such a large place full of old ghost stories and pet graves but it was exhilarating. There were no adults, no other children or dogs. Just her, the trees, the birds and stars.

“Don’t forget the palace,” she whispered and narrowed her eyes at the red bricked building through the mist. It was shut up but she let herself imagine having ownership over it too. Gardeners had dominion over flowers and trees but queens held sway over palaces _and_ flowers and trees. It was only fitting. Once her mama had ruled over a tropical island, a place where time stood still. She had been dreaming about it since she could remember but before he died her papa had forbid her to tell mother because it would upset her so Jane had to keep it to herself. But she knew the truth, she was a princess and once her mama was a queen and of course every queen had a consort.

For some reason the king had never been her papa.

* * *

 

_Jane can not swim!_

The thought blared through her head like a siren, obliterating any other thought. She ran past the Royal Albert Hall, her night gown flying behind her and did not care about the shocked glances she received. She had wanted to call her brothers but there was no time, her daughter’s life was literally hanging in the balance. Every time she thought about Jane images of her daughter floating face down would flash into her mind and her knees would grow weak so she focused on running, on the air rushing into her mouth and out again.

The Albert Memorial rose up out of the mist and she ran across the road, ignoring the cars and carriages and almost getting run over in the process. She was drawing attention now, onlookers no doubt wondering why this mad woman was running down the street in her nightie and slippers and as she ran past a bus stop full of people someone spoke.

“Hello again,” his voice, now slightly deeper but unmistakable, was the only thing on earth that could have stopped her in her tracks and he did. Peter was sat waiting with others, looking just as surprised with the rest. His face, his hatefully confused face, broke something in her and she flew at him, screaming.

“YOU BASTARD! THIS IS YOUR FAULT!” she roared, smacking and hitting him and the people gathered drew back, too shocked to move or break it up. Peter sat, seemingly stunned but when her nails drew blood he grabbed her clawed hands and pushed her back.

“STOP! What’s the matter with you?” he asked, genuinely offended and Wendy was so enraged, so furious that she lost control. With a sound that was not human she shoved her hands against his chest and pushed him into the road. He flailed, arms out for balance and the pure surprise on his face was honest. As a bus screeched to a stop he managed to pull himself back onto the pavement. A second later he would have been crushed to death.

Breathing raggedly she stared at him and the look on his face was no longer innocent, no longer clueless. Here was Peter Pan at last. Before she spun on her heel and fled she caught his mouth twitching in the minutest sign of amusement but she was gone before she could see it flourish into a grin.

* * *

 

Here was the Round Pond, where she heard about the stars and met the nice man. She had actually been talking to him for a few weeks now, unbeknownst to mother. He was around her mother’s age so to Jane he was obviously an adult but mentioning that seemed to displease him. He said that he was still a boy at heart and laughed.

She liked him an awful lot. Even after speaking with him the first time she felt that he was the only person to really get her. Mother did, to an extent but she was so fearful, so worried that something would happen to her that Jane could not help but feel stifled. She loved her more then thought but sometimes she wished that her mother was different, more like her.

That was why she had to get the star, why she had to wish upon it herself. She had originally intended to present it to her mother but she realised that her mother would wish for her to be safe and that would be a wish wasted. Jane _was_ safe and she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself but her mother was a different matter.

She wanted to see her laugh again, she wanted to see her dance and sing. She wanted to see her mother fly like the bird queen she once was and this was the only way to do it. The man had not told her to do this but he had given her the idea. He said he was being truthful and Jane, usually very good at sniffing out fibs, believed him. Inquisitive, fanciful but also practical Jane bit her lip, thinking. She could not swim, a failing that she cursed herself for, but she would not let that stop her.

She would wade in a little, maybe a star was in the shallow end of the pond. Maybe, if she was very lucky, she’d only have to get her shins wet. Hopeful and excited Jane sat on the ground and began unlacing her boots.

* * *

 

Wendy banged her fists against the gate, calling out for a groundsmen but no one came. She was locked out.

“What’s the matter?” Peter said and she spun around, heart already galloping.

“Like you don’t know! My Jane, my daughter, is in there because you told her there were stars in that stupid pond! You made this happen!”

Peter cocked an eyebrow, looking sceptical. “I did nothing of the sort. I told her stories, that was it.”

“Stories that she believed! Oh god please someone open the gate!” she shouted, spinning around to smack the gate again.

“You only have to ask,” he breathed suddenly against her ear, pressed against her back and Wendy’s hands gripped the bars convulsively. She watched as he pushed against the gate and it swung open. He still had magic.

Not stopping to say anything Wendy banged through the gate and sprinted along the path. The pond was some distance away and Wendy took paths that criss-crossed through the park haphazardly before her hand was suddenly taken and she was forced to run onto grass.

“Let go of me!”

“This way is quicker! I’m sorry Wendy, I didn’t know this would happen!”

“Like hell!” she screamed and he shook his head.

“By rights I shouldn’t be helping you. You _did_ just shove me into moving traffic.”

“And I’d do it a hundred, a thousand times if she’s hurt!” Wendy panted, staring at him viciously. Peter said nothing, just smiled and ran faster, pulling her along. They ran through mist, trampling on flowers and jumping over logs before the pond came into view.

“JANE! JANE!” Wendy shouted as her heart leapt. Her daughter was wading in the pond, the water up to her knees and she was bent down, peering into the dark water. It was unlikely that she could see anything as it was so dark but she kept moving further in.

“Stop!” Peter shouted and at the sound of his voice Jane looked up. Seeing that her plan was about to be thwarted Wendy’s rebellious daughter took another resolute step into the pond not realising that she was standing on a ledge. The water closed over her head within seconds, leaving behind a ripple that spread over the dark surface until it was still.


	3. Chapter 3

All thoughts about drowned stars and forests were blasted from her mind as cold dark water filled her mouth and ran up her nose as she inhaled in shock. Panic flooding though her Jane kicked hard, desperately trying to reach the surface but the thick coat she wore weighed her down and she struggled to break the surface. When her face appeared above the water she inhaled and coughed, too focused on the need to get air into her lungs to scream or cry for help. She could just make out her mother and the man diving in but seconds later she was forced under again. Jane stared down, suddenly petrified about what might be hidden in the dark depths, what might come up to get her and drag her down when she was suddenly grabbed and pulled upwards roughly. But as she was something in the dark drew her attention, a white figure floating and it seemed to wink at her. Jane reached out her hands for it before she was rudely ripped away into the air.

“I've got you,” the man gasped, arm ringed around her body and she was pulled backwards in the water, coughing violently.

“I – I saw -”

“Shh, don't speak,” he instructed as they reached the edge of the pond and he placed her gently on the solid ground. Jane pressed her cheek against the gravel, trying to breathe before she suddenly burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably. The man rubbed her back, still standing in the water and her mother was nowhere to be seen.

“Mum – mummy?”

“I thought she was waiting here...damn it,” he cursed softly and waded out again, hand in his dripping hair. It was so dark that Jane could see no more then a few feet before her but as the man waved his hand the night was suddenly illuminated. It was like there really were a thousand stars under the water and the man had just switched them on. A dark shape could be seen floating in the blue light, a silhouette that could easily be mistaken for someone's discarded coat but it wasn't.

The man grabbed her mother and roughly dragged her out of the water and laid her down on the ground. Jane watched distractedly, like she was viewing what was happening from a great distancej as the man dropped to his knees and gave her mother a kiss and she suddenly heaved, water gurgling up over her mouth and the man pushed her onto her side.

 

* * *

 

Wendy inhaled raggedly, coughing and wheezing, and concentrated on sucking air back into her lungs but then everything came crashing down on her and she shot up, banging into Peter behind her.

“Jane!” she cried, or tried to, her throat was like sandpaper. She looked to her left and saw that Jane was pressed against Peter's side, who was also supporting Wendy. Her daughter was shaking, dripping wet and looked pale as a ghost but she was alive. Unable to speak Wendy cried and pulled Jane into her arms, trembling all over.

She was not sure how long they stayed like that, Wendy with her daughter held tight and Peter at her back, but soon cold started to spasm through all of them and Peter whispered that they should get warm. Wendy nodded, not really taking in what he was saying or what was really happening but as Peter pulled her up Wendy gasped in pain, lifting her foot off the ground.

“I caught my foot in there, something wrapped around it,” she explained in a weak voice and Peter nodded.

 “They boat on the water, it was probably some rope,” he explained and before she could say anything he lifted Jane into his arms. She was now half asleep and as he began walking her head lowered against his shoulder and her eyes closed. Wendy brushed the back of her fingers across her cheek, over her mouth and nose and felt her breath play over her fingers.

 “When she was a tiny baby I used to sit by her cot and watch her breathe for hours, I was too scared to sleep if I didn't,” Wendy explained vaguely and Peter looked at her. He was soaking as they were and shivered occasionally but the sight of him was impossible. “Is – is it really you?”

 He nodded and lead her back onto the main path, Wendy limping next to him. She was in shock because if she was not she would have snatched her daughter out of his arms, even if she could not support her weight. But since coming out of the pond she felt like she emerged into a dream, one where time stood still. They left the park, drawing a few curious glances and Wendy lead them over the street towards her house.

 

* * *

 

 A dress and coat, along with a petticoat and socks, were folded neatly over the grate and dripped water onto the floor, a fire roaring behind them. Jane, now stripped of her wet clothes and redressed into a warm nightdress was now fast asleep in bed. Wendy tucked her in until only her sleeping face peeked out from under the bed covers. A deep shiver passed through her and she looked down to see that she was standing in a puddle. As was Peter.

 Wendy stared at him as he stood by the fire and he lifted his chin, straightened up, as if waiting for her to pass judgement on him. She could think more clearly now and knew that having him in her house was madness and that she should order him to leave.

  _But he saved our lives...unless that was his intention all along?_

 She would never know, he would give away nothing. For all his subterfuge and trickery she could not deny that she was curious. Why was he here and why on earth was he now older? What had happened to him and Neverland?

 “You're getting water on my floor,” she remarked quietly and his mouth quirked. He unbuttoned his coat, eyes still fixed on hers and she watched him as he folded the garment next to Jane's socks. Wendy ran her hands down her horribly soggy nightdress, eyes never leaving his as he started to unbutton his collar. She would not undress in front of him but she didn't want to leave him alone with Jane.

  _Why the shyness? Its not like he hasn't seen it all before..._ Wendy frowned at her wayward thoughts and he smirked as if he could hear them. His shirt was undone now and she could see that he was broader, fitter than what she was used to. He was a man. _How he must hate it,_ she thought with relish and moved to him and took the wet shirt out of his hands. He was left in a vest and kept it on, as if to preserve some manners. Wendy moved behind a changing screen that just reached her shoulders, watching Peter like a hawk but he kept his back turned.

 “How old are you now?” he asked suddenly, head tilting to the side.

 “None of your business,” she replied, shaking fingers reaching down for the hem of her gown, eyes never leaving his back.

 “Nearing thirty right?” he asked as if she had not spoken.

 “What of it?” she ripped the soggy clothing over her head and shuddered as the air touched her clammy skin. Now half naked and feet away from a being that once traced his fingers over every inch of her skin she grabbed the blanket she had been using and wrapped it around her body quickly.

 “Just curious. As you've no doubt noticed I'm a few years older too,” Peter grimaced, fingers plucking at the wet trousers he still wore but he kept them on. Wendy came around the screen, making sure that she was covered and moved to Jane's bed and sat. Peter stared down at her, eyes flicking up and down before he settled on her face.

 Wendy ignored him and bent over Jane, looking for any signs of distress but she seemed to sleep peacefully. Her mother on the other hand was shaking with nervous energy and got to her feet quickly, making her head spin. Her forgotten sprained ankle throbbed and she stumbled a little. Peter moved to help her but Wendy manoeuvred out of his reach, opting to drop herself into one of the armchairs be the fire. She bent down, rubbing her foot and did not look up when Peter sat opposite her. She pulled her damp hair over her shoulder, drying it by the fire, while her other hand kept the blanket closed at her chest. She avoided looking up, concentrating on threading her fingers through the knots and tangles in her long hair until Peter leaned down and caught her eye.

 “Look at me,” he demanded softlyand Wendy sat back, unable to look away. He was unmistakably Peter, there was no mistaking those eyes, but he was so fundamentally different that again she was unsure whether she was dreaming or not.

 “You should leave,” she uttered and he nodded.

 “Yes but you didn't have to let me in. You want me here, you're curious.”

 “Did you intend to harm my daughter?” Wendy asked, teeth barred and he leaned forward and fixed her with his gimlet green eyes.

 “No, I swear it. It was just a story, one that was true once. I just wanted to speak to her,” he said softly and something in his eyes flickered or maybe it was just the fire. “I needed to be sure,” he breathed and Wendy stilled.

 “Sure of what?”

 “You know,” he answered, starting to breathe quicker but Wendy leaned forward, finger in the air and her gaze was blazing.

 “No. One more word and you're gone. In fact you have until your clothes dry and then I never want to see you again. Do you understand? You will not approach me or my daughter again.”

 Peter's jaw clenched but then he sat back with a smile, drawing his fingers over his mouth, his eyes playful. He got comfortable, arms resting either side of him and he stared at her, making Wendy uncomfortable with the attention.

 “Stop that.”

 “You're beautiful,” he remarked with a simple sincerity and for some mad reason she felt self conscious, hand going to her drying hair as a spark of heat ignited in her.

 “I'm a mess...” she narrowed her eyes at him, dropping her hand. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

 “And where do you think I want to go?”

 “Who on earth can say _what_ you think? Madmen maybe,” she countered and he grinned.

 “Oh I've missed you,”he proclaimed, elbows on his knees and she could not look away from him. She pinned him with a heavy look.

 “I forgot all about you.”

 “Liar,” he breathed, mouth curling and Wendy's heart raced. She fisted the blanket around her and glared at him.

 “Why are you really here? What happened?”

 “You know what happened,” he said and sat back. He stared into the fire, watching the embers crack. “I'm here because I've got nowhere else to go.”

 “Peter...” she shook her head sadly but he would not look at her. Once she had longed for this, to have him back beside her and only in her wildest dreams did he want to actually stay with _her_. But that was the dream of an infatuated teenager and that person was long gone. Or so she thought.

 He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, as if to avoid staring at her and then closed them. “I failed, I failed spectacularly and I thought that was it, there was nothing else to be done. I banished you all, I thought I didn't need any of you but I was wrong,” he whispered and opened his eyes and they were burning with an angry pain.

 “It's too late for regrets now,” she said but not unkindly. He had been so angry with her and Felix and she knew that he would not have reacted in such a way if he hadn't been hurt on some deep level. She gazed in him, wondering. “You have a heart now, don't you?”

 “Literally,” he replied in a dry tone and then sighed. “Just not the one I wanted...” he sat in silence, staring into the distance and Wendy looked between him and Jane. Nana was still sleeping off the effects of the drug and Wendy bent down and scratched her ears.

 “Poor Nana, you have been most ill used tonight. Jane fed her my sleepingtonic,” Wendy added as Peter stared quizzically. A laugh burst out of himand Wendy shushed him but ended up pressing her knuckles against her lips.

 “That's brilliant.”

 “Brilliantly devious. Oh I could float that she's all right but she scared me half to death,” she admitted, staring at her sleeping daughter. Peter shifted in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable.

 “I really didn't think she'd do something like this, I promise,” he said and Wendy looked back and gazed on him for a long time before answering.

 “I used to think that one morning I would come in here and find her gone and the window open. When Felix died I practically slept in here...”

 “You thought I would take her? Why would I do that?”

 “As punishment,” she answered and he frowned.

 “Do you think I'm that cruel?”

 “Yes.”

 Instead of being offended he shrugged, accepting it. “Once maybe but not any more. It should be glaringly obvious that I've changed.”

 “You're older but that doesn't mean anything about your character. You could be worse for all I know,” she said but didn't really believe it. There _was_ something different about him, the malicious giddiness was gone, the feeling that he was about to pounce subdued. He was mellowed with age, his _true_ age and all those countless centuries must now be weighing heavy on him.

 “I'm mortal now, I don't have the luxury of being worse, I don't have the time or frankly the inclination. I'm tired,” he confessed.

 “You lost,” she said and he smiled strangely.

 “Everything. I have nothing left.”

  _Nothing but me_ , she thought and it was the unspoken truth hanging between them. She knew deep down that his words had a light of truth on them but she had been burnt by him too severely, too frequently to ever trust him completely. He could be here to ensnare her and then strike when she was at her most unguarded. Once he was that cruel but now?

 “You still have magic,” she recalled suddenly and he cocked an eyebrow.

 “Only a little, it's fading and soon it will all be gone. My legacy in this world; the last of magic dies with me.”

 At his turn of phrase Wendy felt something squeeze her inside, something cold and stinging. “You're...you are well, aren't you?” her eyes swept over his face, looking for signs of illness but he looked healthy, skin rosy in the firelight. But Peter just smiled and said nothing and Wendy knew then the real reason why he had come to her, why he had been in the park. He had come to say goodbye.

 Unbidden tears sprang up in her eyes and her throat tightened with emotion. Peter shook his head, looking harsh and leaned forward, pointing a finger at her.

 “Don't. You know I hate tears.”

 “Peter...” she breathed gutturally, moving forward and finally touched him. Her fingers brushed over his face, gliding against his cheeks and over his eyelashes, making his eyes close. He whispered something, too quiet to hear and reached for her, hands on her knees tugging her closer. Again and again their lips met softly and drew back hesitantly until he groaned and pushed his mouth against hers, hand against the side of her face. Wendy squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to sob as he stood and pulled her against him. Her chest heaved against his with contained feeling but she could do nothing to stop it and she was soon kissing him with a furious passion, one that had been trapped inside her for years. Their kisses became hard and rough as their angry tinged longing finally found an outlet; Wendy's hands threading though his hair and pulling, making him groan in her mouth until he pulled away for air. Wrapped in each other's arms they gazed at each other deeply, fiercely and it was so searing that it almost bordered on hatred. Wendy tugged on his hair again painfully, eyes boring into his.

 “Please tell me it's not true? I can't _bare_ it, not – not after Felix. I know you hated him in the end but god, I can't take any more loss.”

 Something troubled flickered in his gaze. “I never hated him and I miss him too. He was my friend, my _only_ friend but I was too late to save him. I'll stay as long as I can, if you want me here, I promise.”

 “Don't you lie to me because you can't die. I won't let you,” she whispered and he smiled. He kissed her softly, as if to placate her and the tension that had stricken her body slowly dripped away until she hung limply in his arms. He moved them gently, back and forth in a rocking motion and she could feel his heart beating against her breast. It was pounding.

 “Mummy?” came a sleepy question and the two adults stilled, pulling away from each other. The blanket was hanging around her hips, trapped between their bodies and after a frozen moment Wendy snatched it up and pulled it back around her, moving away from him.

 “I'm here sweetie,” Wendy cooed and got on her knees but Jane was asleep again. Wendy slumped a little, looking down but jerked when she felt the back of his fingers trailing down her necksoftly. She looked up at him as he smiled down at her, fingers now caressing her cheek. She could tell him to leave, she could doubt him but it was not something she could do with any real faith.

 “Help me up,” she said and he offered a hand and pulled her up to her feet. Hand still in his Wendy, still limping, lead him to the door and looked back into the room for a final glance. For the first time in years, for the first time since she gave birth, she left her daughter alone, assured that she was finally safe. There was no threat, no shadow about the snatch her up and Peter was no longer the cruel boy waiting in the dark. He was gone, just as the girl who flew away to Neverland was gone.

They had grown up.

* * *

**a.n:**

_I could continue or leave it here.._


	4. Chapter 4

She closed the door behind them and he stared briefly around her bedroom but his eyes could not stray from her for long. They stood in silence, a tense thing that was pulled taut between them like a rope and it echoed the tension inside him. Before he had always taken her with a violent desire which had stemmed from a need to possess her, to conquer and leave her with a lasting impression of who she belonged to. It was still there, that savagery, but now he was too haunted by her to give into it. Tears gleamed on her cheeks and he wiped them away gently, the contact making his skin tingle. Wendy laced her fingers through his and leaned on him, taking the weight off her foot. Peter gathered her up in his arms.

“I never forgot you but I started to doubt that you'd come back,” she whispered as he buried his face in her neck, his hands threading through her drying hair. He could feel her small body through the blanket she wore and he suddenly flared up with the need to rip it off, to pick her up and throw her on the bed behind them but he stopped himself. He dropped to his knees, making Wendy gasp and he brushed his hands down the blanket as she gripped it over her chest. She watched him from under hooded eyes as he lifted her injured foot up gently.

“Does it hurt?”

She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek as his hand cupped her ankle gently and suddenly her skin was bathed with warmth, a wonderful heat that sunk in deep and the pain faded away. Peter had healed her, leaving behind a soft glow and Wendy gazed at him in amazement.

“I didn't know you could do that...” she whispered. He had never been one for comfort, the exact opposite in fact. Peter smile and stood up quickly.

“Oh I've still got a few tricks...” he whispered and his eyes teased with a light she was familiar with, one that never boded well for her in the past. Lust and the satisfaction it brought had been denied to both for years and it was reflected back at each other now. It coursed through them with such fierceness that when he finally kissed her it was so forceful that the back of her legs hit the bed and she fell back. The blanket parted and he gazed on her intensely as she laid her head down, hair fanning out on the bedspread. Her chest was heaving and her skin was milky white in the dark, skin that he had often left marked and bruised with his passion. She was trembling, vulnerable below him but her eyes were steady on his. She was no longer a naive girl way over her head and that knowledge produced a fire in him that lifted him beyond what he had once been. He was a terrible person, despite the weak heart now beating in his chest, he had no illusions to that and neither did she but right at that moment he felt aloft in her presence.

 She watched him as he undressed, pulling his vest off and unbuckled his trousers with movements that became wild, throwing his clothes aside hastily as need burned in his eyes. Wendy's hands gripped the cover below as he leaned over her and captured her mouth and kissed her with a bruising intensity. Her mouth parted and his tongue swiped along her bottom lip before he deepened the kiss. Wendy moaned and threaded her fingers through his hair as he reached for her hips and grabbed the blanket that was still covering her waist and legs. He pulled roughly, Wendy arching her hips up to help, and flung it away. He pulled away from her red lips and glided the palms of his hands down her naked body, starting under the swell of her breasts, along her rib cage to the curve of her waist with a torturous slowness that belied how desperately he wanted to sink between her legs. Wendy wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down on her and he knew she felt it too, the hunger. She strained against him, panting harshly and her breasts pressed against his chest as she kissed him fiercely. He was shaking now, his hardness pressing against her thigh and she rubbed her soft skin against him, making him jerk and growl like an animal. Wendy smiled against his cheek, her mouth now throbbing with use and brushed her fingertips down his back before dragging her nails lightly back up and Peter practically whimpered. He kissed her again and unable to take any more he pushed her legs apart and moved between them. He was so very strained now that he knew he would not last long but as he centred and pushed into her wetness he tried to hold back. They stared into each other's eyes as he thrust deep into her and she held her breath before arching her head back into the mattress with a moan.

 “Peter...” she breathed as he began to thrust and his restraint snapped. He pressed his lips against her throat as he slammed his hips against her, pushing her into the bed with each thrust until it began to creak. Wendy gasped, putting a finger to her mouth but he caught it and bit. A delightful squeal escaped her and it drove him wild as she bucked below him and swore breathlessly. Before he would ride her to exhaustion, until he was sated but now she met him thrust for thrust, chasing her own desire as much as his own. It was not love making, to fierce for that, but it was not Wendy being solely used for his own pleasure, though he enjoyed the challenge of making her scream. It was mutual and _so much_ better for it.

  _I've missed_ _out on_ _so much_ , he thought and knew that come morning he would never leave. She was his, she always had been but now he was hers. He had nothing but this woman and her child, nothing but the life she was willing to open up and find a place for him. It would be hard, impossible likely and he had wronged her so bitterly that he knew it was likely she would change her mind and regret this but he knew she wouldn't. Call it arrogance but he knew this woman, had peeled back every layer of her whether she had wanted him to or not and now all that was left was for him.

 “You're mine,” he gasped against her shoulder as he reached his climax, body pounding against her and she stiffened below him. He did not know if it was from pleasure or not and all thought was blasted from his head as he spilled into her clenching heat. Wendy shook and seemed to strangle on air, mouth gasping, as her own release rocked her body. He held her tight as violent trembles passed through her until she slumped back down, arms thrown weakly around his body. Entwined and still they breathed heavily, recovering.

 Finally he lifted his head and looked down on her. Her eyes were half lidded and a satisfied smile curled her mouth. Brimming with a postcoital gentleness he nudged his mouth teasingly against hers before pulling away. He was surprised at the loss he felt not being in her. He never wanted to be parted from her but he knew deep inside that it could not be so. Pushing the thought away he settled beside her and Wendy rested her head on his shoulder. She yawned and he felt sleep weighing on his eyes and he was unable to resist. They slept, arms wrapped around each other as if scared either would try to escape.

 

 

* * *

 

 Jane woke suddenly, heart racing and stared up at the ceiling. The street lamp outside her window cast a faint orange light that dimly lit her room but it was still full of shadows. She inhaled deeply, focussing on the way her lungs filled and then held it. She had almost died because of her fanciful mind and desire to make things right. Instead her mother had almost drowned and that knowledge made the air trapped in her throat escape in a rush. A guilt that she had never felt in her young life beset her and she sat up, clutching the blanket in her hands. Right at that moment she wanted her father with a desperate longing, even though he was just a blurred figure of memory now. He had been distant, she was clear on that but he always brushed her fears aside, imbuing her with calmness that always emitted from him. She wanted him now to tell her that everything was okay but he was gone and last night she could have lost her mother too.

 Sobs gasped from her and she got unsteadily to her feet. Her legs were shaking and tremors past through her. She was not cold but she could not stop shaking. The sight of Nana at the end of her bed produced another stab of anguish and she felt the deepest sense of guilt yet. Her poor old dog was the most faithful friend she had and yet she had treated her wickedly. She thought she had been so clever, so resourceful and did not stop think of Nana's feelings. Both of her parents would be ashamed of her.

 “I – I'm so sorry Nana. I do love you,” she gulped and the dog stared at her sleepily. The gaze was not reproachful, that she could bare, but hurt. Unable to take any more Jane ran out, hot tears falling fast and hurried to her mother's room. Usually she would knock, as she had been taught to, but her suffering was so great that she grabbed the handle and pushed the door open a little. The sight before her was familiar and yet so very wrong. Her mother was asleep, her back to her and blankets were puled up to her shoulders. That was expected, the man beside her was not.

  _It's the man, the man who saved us_ , she thought and stared at the bed with deep confusion. Since first meeting him she had been struck with the feeling that she knew him, had known him forever and he smiled on her like he knew her secret. He was like her, she was sure of it but this, this was strange. He should not be there, he was not her father. He looked peaceful and her mother, who had her head on his chest, looked the happiest that Jane had ever seen her.

 Jane, her upset momentarily forgotten, moved into the room quietly, never taking her gaze away from the adults. She moved until she was staring at his sleeping face, a face that was oddly young and something started to tick in her. It was like there was a face beneath, a face hidden but one she knew as well as her own. She peered closer, squinting her eyes and then suddenly she knew who he was.

 “The King...” she breathed. She had dreamt of her mother as queen beside a boy who was king, a boy who was not her father (he had been kneeling.) But the king was on an island, a magical, wonderful island where no one died. How could he be here?

  _He made the stars shine in the pond_ , she remembered suddenly and as she did his eyes suddenly opened. Jane drew back, inhaling sharply but did not move or make a sound. His light green eyes gazed at her with surprise before something soft settled over his features. In fact he looked amused.

 “Good morning,” he barely whispered and Jane leaned down again, inspecting his face and he watched her patiently.

 “You're the boy king from my dreams, aren't you? Mummy's king?” she thought he would deny it, say nothing and keep smiling at her like a sphinx but he did neither.

 “Yes,” he answered simply and something in Jane's heart flared. He narrowed his eyes and reached out a hand and placed it beside her ear. “I think you took something back up with you, it's tangled in your hair,” he whispered and drew his hand back. His closed fist was glowing with a golden light, like he had a tiny sun in his hand and Jane gasped.

 “A star?” she asked. He said nothing, just smiled and the light started to fade and Jane frowned. “It's going out.”

 “They all do once wished upon. What did you wish for?”

 “I...” she hesitated, looking between him and her mother, who still slept. “I wished for my mother to be happy, for us to be a proper family again,” she whispered and knew that deep down she had wished for the one thing she could never have: _her father back_. The light in his hand went out and he unfurled his long fingers. His palm was empty. Jane looked up at him and he winked at her sad face.

 “My name is Peter,” he whispered and Jane knew it was, his name was always just on the tip of her tongue. She stared at him in amazement as he smiled softly.

 “Will you be staying this time?” she asked and something painful flashed through his eyes.

 “...Not for as long as I want but I'll stay,” he said, gaze unfocused before his eyebrow cocked – something that she immediately wanted to learn – as her mother began to stir.

 Jane stepped away from the bed, knowing it was bad manners to intrude and her mother would be angry and flustered to find her there. She was happy, Jane could see it and that was all she ever wanted and it seemed the man – Peter – was the missing piece. His light green eyes, closer to her own shade than her mother's deep forest green, gazed at her intently. She knew who he was, who he _really_ was and she nodded at him with a happy knowing and he motioned at the door with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Jane ran out before her mother saw her and she left her shame and suffering behind, as if it had burned up with the star in his hand.

 

 

* * *

 

 Wendy woke to find him staring down at her and she was momentarily transported back to Neverland where he would watch her sleep. He would spring at her once recognition entered her eyes but now he just continued to stare down at her.

“You're still here,” she mumbled sleepily, turning on her back. “I thought the light would make you disappear.”

 “Like I said I've got nowhere else to go,” he nuzzled her cheek and Wendy lifted her brows, arms going around him.

 “So have you been sleeping in the park all this time? Under a bench?” her lips stretched at the thought. Peter gazed at her sardonically.

 “The Ritz, actually.”

 “Of course,” she replied mock seriously. “Nothing but the best. And how did you pay may I ask?”

 “Pay?” he asked, nonplussed and she laughed. He had money deposits in a few worlds but he had used magic and his charms to get what he wanted. But the magic was fading, along with the money. Wendy narrowed her eyes with a knowing look.

 “You're actually here to throw yourself at my mercy, aren't you?”

“I wouldn't go that far...” he uttered and she suspected asking for help, admitting that he was so defeated had been wrenching for him. He was terribly proud but when you hit bottom you know it. Could he go up? Would she allow him that? Did she even want that? She had been swept away by emotion last night, by a long frustrated lust and a fragile but deeply buried love that she could feel starting to stir now. But they would have to wait.

 “I must check on Jane,” she said and climbed out of the bed. Naked she moved around him and he reached out a hand and brushed his hand down her hip and thigh, gaze hungry but she tactfully manoeuvred away and slipped on a dressing gown. Peter lay back and stared at her with a knowing smile on his lips and that made her immediately suspicious.

 “She's fine.”

 “How do you know?”

 “I know everything,” he uttered quietly as Wendy rolled her eyes.

 “Still conceited....” she muttered but stopped at the door. She felt jittery, and there was a horrible creeping doubt that was swelling and abating like waves. She smiled at Peter and as if knowing what was coming he became guarded.

 “I'm fine,” he said before she could speak. “Go to your daughter.”

 “But last night you said - ” she paused, unable to voice it. In the firelight he had looked healthy but now in the morning light she saw with a terrible sinking weight that his eyes were dark and he was very pale. “Peter...”

 “Go,” he commanded like the person she had known and she knew that the subject was untouchable, he would give her nothing. Wanting to hold onto the happiness she felt earlier Wendy nodded, granting his wish and left him alone and as she moved down the quiet hallway she prayed that he would still be there when she got back.

 He had promised that he would stay and Peter always kept his word.

 


End file.
